~Emit~

Liliana Rosalyn

The loud bell—infuriating and alarming—wakes me up from my deep slumber. My heart leaps in my chest, realising what today means. I'm going to die today.

Crazy as it may sound, I feel bubbly on the inside. I speed to the confined bathroom—courtesy of the motherfuckers who enslave my species—to find no one there. Abso-fucking-lutely amazing. Today's starting great for a birthday.

I flinch when the water touches my skin. A sizzling sensation from all the burns and bruises I've had to endure from my lack of subservience. Done, I hurry to dress up before others awaken.

All the girls here are active slave and in their inferiority complex would do anything to bully you just to feel a touch of power. I bet no human would have remained after the war if not for our precious blood that the Viatores need. 

The dining hall echoes lightly on the influence of my black Chelsea boot. I grab a coffee while I fix my hair. I'm looking for a seat when a bulky Viatore stops me. His amber eyes gives him away for a fire bender. 

"The Beetroot juice is more healthy." 

I swallow instinctively. "I'm aware. I just prefer—it's my birthday today. Humans take it seriously, plus I'd be auctioned off today. Give me a break, Reagan."

"Fine." 

Yes, I know. For a specie that enslaved mine, he couldn't have cared. Newsflash, he doesn't. In their calculating nature, they require our blood fresh and flowy.  

His voice halts my walk a second later. "However, pick a healthy food. You wouldn't want to annoy the King—"

"Oh, Reagan. A lost cause like her doesn't need your advise." Says a familiar, irking feminine voice. Mrs. Rogue—my instructor and an air bender—and I are sworn enemies. She comes from behind one of the pillars. "You know you'll be accessed as an Emit, right? I wonder how you'd fight in the outside world." She dares. 

"Oh, perhaps Lord Lucas will chose her. After all, he's heading over here ahead of the other Lords." Swallowing hard again, I drop my face and hurry from their middle. My heart is racing hard. My scariest vision is to be auctioned off as an Emit. My grades are bad which could factor it, and that's why I must piss the Lords of the king of all Benders off when they arrive to access us before we are transferred to the Referendarius—the selling market. Die on the spot and be free. 

Finally, I settle on one of the seats. I really can't be sold off to one of these benders. I've heard stories of the outside world. It's a mad maze out there. 

"Yo! I've been looking for you!" A voice screeches, high-pitched and causing my coffee to spill.

"Rita!" I wipe off the foam on my upper lip.

"What? I've been looking for you." Then she whispers. "I thought you've been taken ahead of us." She says that with a suspicious tone. 

"What does that mean?"

"Well, you have the lowest grade and the instructors are itching to get rid of you, especially Mrs. Rogue." I roll my eyes while she digs into her food. "Wait, you look pale." 

I sigh, anger evident in my brows. "These stupid leeches treat us like we are pets. I mean, we are to them, but fuck, I want to be done already."

An alarm rings into the room out of the blue and my eyes pop up, excitedly. "Oh, finally, time to get my last lecture and be done with this shit." 

"You're not really going to get yourself killed by the Lords, would you? If you annoy them on the stage, they might hurt you instead. They are worse than our instructors because they have limitations on how much they can torture us unlike the Lords." 

"Well, I'll miss you, best friend. You know everyone here hates me except you. I cherish that, but death really is a luxury I can't wait to attain." After I say, we both stand up and make our way to class.

The hallway is engulfed by students-splash-slaves. Its ingrained in our nature to get in before the instructor. Well, count me out. You can say that's why I get beaten like the daily routine of a royal's skincare.

Everyone is settled. Mrs. Rogue graces us with her presence, earning absolute silence in the huge room. There's a projector on the aisle which lights up the entire wall in front of us with an outline.

Her high heels clicks in her pacing. "In your handbook, your 303 principle teaches you what?"

A little murmur fill the space before she calls out a name. "Yes, Linda." 

"Oh, that bitch of a perfect slave." My subconscious takes the better of me. There's nothing more disgusting than a submissive cunt, a human, who's lost all their dignity, not only to satisfy benders but also would snitch on their fellow humans so they can lick benders' arse. 

Respectfully, that's who Linda is. 

"On the 18th birthday, a human student shall be accessed, dressed and placed on the stage to wait for the Lords. Grades amongst other factors shall define her then judgment will be made to either be auctioned as Emit, Dator, or Emunctor lactis."

"Very good, Linda. Sit." Orders Mrs. Rogue. "This year will be different instead. You will all be auctioned off to the Referendarius alongside your grades where you'd then be categorised by Keepers."

Wait, what? That can't be. I shall be doomed. The Lords have to see us, and I must annoy them so in their pride, they may decapitate me. In the Referendarius, the Keepers—slave masters—can sell me to any Viatore and do whatever they wish to me. Why? My school performance will earn me an Emit position. I'll be a fucking bleeder. 

"No! Why this change?" Asks a voice—a relief. All eyes diverts to me. Fuck. I said it. 

Mrs. Rogue's stern eyes fixates at me and walks over to my desk with antipathy. Oh, boy.

"Big time fuck up, Ana."

"What did you say?" 

The heck. I muttered that out loud again? Mrs. Rogue may even send me off to a cruel buyer out of spite. 

"Liliana Rosalyn, correct?" Her lips curl into a devilish smile with squinted eyes. Her aura is perilous with a patting on my cheek. I disgust her, I can tell from her features. 

"Lord Lucas appeared to deliver the impromptu rearrangement, and while it is a surprise, peasant like yourself don't deserve to ask questions." She keeps her eyes on me and I showed no ounce of fear. 

"Do you know what we do to sleazy creatures such as yours, especially when they wouldn't know their place?" Something about her pitch leaves an ominous sensation. 

Suddenly, the hair at the back of my head froze followed by the widening of my eyes as she weaves a string of air round her arms. Then, she clasps her hand into a fist. Instantly, the air in my throat burns and seizes at the same time.

Seconds later, I drop to the ground, wheezes and wishing I could shift bodies—an immense horror. My veins, fuck it, my entire face is burning red, my hands gripping my throat as my body jolts on the ground. 

"Please... it burns." 

"And suddenly, I couldn't hear you anymore. Please speak louder." She chides as she tightens her grip, sending me to hell on earth.

Serotonin fills my body in a jiffy. For someone who craved for death, hell, I was scared of it. 

A whine escapes Mrs Rogue mouth. "The bitch wouldn't heed to correction."

"You're in no position to hurt her." A masculine voice gruffs, his presence radiates fear off of Mrs. Rogue. "You shall be dealt with." 

My eyes are blurred from my tears, and my body is weakened. Right there, my body shuts down.

My eyelids flicker open to a dark room. I'm immediately drawn to the space at the overwhelming cosiness. I wish to admire every inch of it. Intricately. Sadly, I can't. My throat feels mashed, and I'm paralysed. 

Panic races through my train of thought. Mrs. Rogue hurt me! "Where am I? This doesn't look like the academy." I think.

"Of course not. You're in my stateroom." I recognise that voice. On the inside, I freeze. "I already saved you from Rogue. There's no need to scare."

And who the fuck is he? 

Just then, a man wheels over on a chair, coming to my awareness. I can't tilt my neck so I had to force my peripheral sight to capture as much as I can. He looks rich and powerful dressed formally in a beige polo shirt, tucked into a leather dark brown pant—his dark silver-dyed hair matches his other facial hair, strikingly complimenting his melanin skin.

Shit! If I'm here, then I'll miss my auctioning by the Lords. Is he taking me to the Referendarius? Scrap that! Is he my new owner?

He places his hand on my forehead and I shut my thoughts. "What the fuck is this motherfucker doing?" 

"You curse a lot, yet you whine more. You threaten a lot yet you scare more. A typical weakling behaviour, I believe." His scent of subtle, alluring cinnamon, grapefruit and something more exotic hit me like a gust of wind. 

"You're a strong human. Your body reveals it effortlessly." He pauses. "Ahem, forgive me, but I couldn't ignore the art of wounds. Anyway, I've checked your certificate, reports, and curriculum. I have need..."

The wooden door slams against the wall. The sound leaves my nerves spiked up. "Lord Lucas!" 

Impossible.

"Who the fuck are you?" Asks the man who I now know as Lord Lucas, but that can't be! 

Oh, this new bender better have a valid reason or he could lose his head. 

"One of your men on the deck, my Lord. The Harlows. We are under attack by them." 

I swear I almost caught him shudder but he composes himself. "What are their elements?"

"Water benders, Lord. All are water." That definitely worsen the situation.

"Gather the men. I'll join shortly." 

After the bender disappears, the man who bears Lord Lucas glances at me and I shift my gaze instantly. "That really did surprise you, I see. I'm pretty sure it's not everyday a Lord like myself comes to save a pet in her school." If there's anything I didn't know about this cold-hearted brother to the King of all Benders, it's that he's egoistical. 

After he leaves, I release a breath I didn't know I was holding. I am on a ship? Where is he taking me to? I have many questions and I'm certain their answers wouldn't assure my death. 

Soon, a woman peeps into the room. "I—Lord Lucas asked me to stay with you." Her calm sotto voice explains right before she occupies the bedside table. 

She's human and she looks just as scared as I am, perhaps not even close. I'm freaking out of my mind. It's not everyday you see a Lord but having a Lord save you—bring you to his ship on an unknown journey—that doesn't happen, not even in a century.

Although, I doubt he's here to kill. He's the cold-hearted and vile beast of Europe. He would have drained me of all my blood and taint it for his health.

After what seems like forever with my endless thoughts, Lord Lucas appears in the room once again. A few clicks of boots is heard. "Get everyone—slaves included—to the deck now. We are only an hour away from Austria. I need every available water benders once they're done healing the others."

"Yes, Lords."

Lord Lucas nears me again, his eyes bloodshot this time around. I swallow a large lump when I see a smear of blood along his face, dirtying his left ear. 

"Today was a rough day for us both, I must admit, but well, we both didn't die." He laughs as though he had cracked a joke. Then, his face shuts deadpan right after. "Oh, about you, I know what do now."

His hand spread over my face. "Don't fret." He ushers. "I won't hurt you. In fact, I'll heal you before gifting you out."

The fuck? I wish to die not to be sold. Fate just had to fuck me in the face!

"Until then," his fingers swim past my face, "sleep," and I lost consciousness.